


Hurt

by orphan_account



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Blood, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 13:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this prompt at More-Biting: Cain accidentally hurts Abel physically. Abel thinks it was deliberate and Cain doesn’t initially correct him because he’s stubborn and Cain, but he actually feels really bad about it, and when Abel’s upset and crying over it Cain feels so guilty that he forces himself to comfort him and apologize and give him reluctant kisses and cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if this is what you were looking for, Anon, but please accept this humble offering! <3

Abel always worked too fucking hard. Even when he was off-duty, settled down in their room for the night, he relaxed by working; tapping away at his tablet, little line between his eyebrows as he frowned in concentration. The one good thing about Abel was that Cain always knew just how to distract him.

"Come on," Cain said, climbing onto the bed beside Abel and leaning back against the wall. "Time to stop working."

"I'm not," Abel lied, tipping the tablet screen away from Cain, curling toward the wall and hiding.

"Right," Cain said flatly, rolling his eyes. "Let me see, then."

Abel rolled away from him, made to stand up, but Cain grabbed him and pulled him back; arm around Abel's chest and trying to look over his shoulder at the tablet. "Just let me finish this—"

"So you  _are_  working," Cain said, part of him trying to ignore Abel wiggling against his front, part of him trying to bring him closer and distract Abel once and for all.

"Later," Abel said, still struggling, tablet dangling out of one hand while he tried to ward off Cain with the other. "Later, please, just let me—"

Cain didn't quite know how it happened. All he remembered was reaching past Abel and toward his tablet, yanking up hard at the same moment that Abel dived forward to stop him. There was a hard, dull noise, not very audible at all. However, that noise combined with a sudden throb of pain in Cain's upraised elbow and the quick slickness that followed, gave him pause.

He lowered his arm, the tablet dropping to the bed. For a moment, he and Abel just stared at each other, blood gushing down the front of Abel's face from his nose, dribbling down his chin and onto his bare chest. Only a moment though, for a moment was all it took for Abel to suddenly wail, to hop off the bed and clutch at his face, tilting his head back to try to stem the flow.

 _"What the hell, Cain?"_  he yelled, voice thick and muddled; bits of reddened spit flying from his mouth as he spluttered. "You didn't have to  _hit me_!"

Cain just watched, not sure what to say, small trickle of Abel's blood sliding down his arm toward his wrist when he stood up. Abel was pacing back and forth by the bathroom door, both hands cupped around his nose and moaning. "I—what, you think I did that on  _purpose_?" Cain finally said, offended that Abel thought he would land such a weak hit by trying.

"I need to go to medical," Abel said, voice still thick and gummy. He kept his hands cupped around his chin as he lowered his face to glare at Cain. "I think you broke my nose."

Cain snorted, stepped closer to Abel, and then paused when Abel met him step for step; retreating as Cain advanced. "I didn't break your nose," Cain snapped, suddenly annoyed with how Abel was looking at him; wide-eyed and betrayed, as though Cain had gone and stabbed him in the fucking gut.

"I need to go to medical," Abel said again, slurred and broken. There was blood on his teeth, and a steady stream was still dripping onto his chest.

When Cain just stood there, not doing anything, Abel lowered his hands even further, bloody palms held out in front of him like a supplication.  _"Please,"_ he said, but his tone wasn't so much a plea as a directive. His glare deepened, little line appearing between his eyebrows for just a bare second before his eyes widened. He let out a piteous little moan, and if Cain had been uncomfortable as fuck before, suddenly Abel's eyes were welling, his hands coming back up to cup his nose, and there was more than one wetness on his face now.

He turned away quickly, though, before Cain could do more than watch the tears spill over onto his cheeks. "Abel…" he started, no idea where that thought was going.

Didn't matter when Abel said,  _"Don't._ I can't believe you  _hit me_."

And he fucking  _hadn't_ —at least not on purpose, but he just shut up and let Abel blubber because Abel wanted to believe it anyway, and nothing Cain said would change his mind.

Then Abel was striding to the dresser, smearing blood across the drawer when he opened it, fishing out a black t-shirt and pressing it to his face. Cain took a step forward because that was  _his_ fucking shirt, but now didn't seem to be the time to pick a fight with Abel—even if Abel already thought he had.

"I'll go by myself then," Abel said, voice barely audible through the cloth around his nose and mouth, the blood, the tears. He touched a hand to the door panel; more blood, and then made as though he was going to leave the room in nothing but his fucking underwear.

"Abel, fuck." Cain caught him by the arm and dragged him back inside the room, closing the door again as Abel wrenched out of his grasp and leapt away.

His face crumpled in annoyance, and then again in pain, more tears welling out that he didn't even try to hide, just watching Cain while he cried; wadded up shirt pressed to his nose, face and chest smudged with blood.

"Let me go," Abel said; quiet, level, as if Cain was going to fucking punch him if he raised his voice.

Cain licked his lips and glared. "I didn't fucking mean it, OK?"

"You're lying," Abel said at once.

Cain pulled out a cigarette and lit it with difficulty, hands shaking—from what, he wasn't sure. "I'm not," Cain muttered, taking a drag, barely stopping himself from blowing the smoke in Abel's mottled face.

"You could've just let me keep working," Abel said. "You didn't—"

 _"I didn't fucking mean to do it, OK?"_ Cain hadn't meant to raise his voice; hadn't meant to reach forward and grab Abel by the shoulder, dragging him closer while the cigarette dangled, already-forgotten, from his free hand.

Abel shuddered, dropped the shirt to the floor and twisted hard out of Cain's grip. He gasped in response; one hand reaching up to flutter awkwardly in front of his nose before dropping to the side again.

"Just—stay here." Cain took a step back, kept his eyes on Abel, but he didn't give Cain any guarantee that he was going to stay. Cain darted into the bathroom, tried to make it quick as he stubbed out his cigarette, grabbed the hand towel and ran it under the faucet—didn't know if Abel was going to try to sneak out while he was out of sight.

He was still there when Cain exited the bathroom, though; sitting at the edge of the lower bunk both hands pressed against his cheeks, not quite touching his nose. Cain sat down beside him, ignored the annoyed look Abel gave him in favor of reaching toward him with the washcloth.

"Just give it to me," Abel said, attempting to take it out of Cain's hands, not meeting his eye.

"No." Cain muttered—didn't know how the fuck Abel expected him to make it better if he wouldn't let Cain do one goddamn thing. He reached forward again, pretended not to notice when Abel leaned away from him.

Cain ran the cloth slowly across his chest, wiping up the stray drops of blood that had fallen even to his navel. He scooted closer when he reached for Abel's face, though, wiping at his mouth and trying not to brush his nose; fucked it up and made Abel wince and startle, eyes watching Cain's every move.

"I didn't—" Cain started to say, then broke off, lifted the washcloth away and glanced down at Abel's newly-cleaned lips. He didn't think about it, just leaned down and kissed him; his lips salty and coppery and a little damp.

When Abel gasped, Cain almost smiled, but then Abel was wrenching away again, moaning and touching two fingers to his nose. " _Ow_."

He gave Cain a sharp look, as if he'd elbowed him all over again, and Cain dropped the cloth to the floor, grabbed Abel's wrist before he could go anywhere. "I'm fucking sorry, OK? I didn't mean to fucking do it, so just calm down and don't do anything stupid like go to medical and tell them that your fighter  _hit—_ "

"You did," Abel said, but he didn't try to break free of Cain's grasp.

Cain licked his lips. Abel still had blood on his nose and smeared across his cheeks, telltale sign of wetness below his eyes. "I—not on purpose," Cain muttered.

Abel didn't say anything, didn't stop Cain when he picked up the towel again and scooted closer. He cleaned up the rest of the blood on Abel's face, didn't meet the dark gaze that just watched him do it in silence.

Then Cain tilted forward, put a hand on Abel's knee and just left it there as he brushed his lips across Abel's neck. He pulled back after that touch, though, glancing up and meeting Abel's gaze.

Abel didn't say anything, didn't do anything but look at him, so Cain ducked down again, kissed up the side of Abel's neck and squeezed his thigh. "Sorry," he muttered, the word coming out wrong; unused, different when he was breathing it right into Abel's ear…when he meant it. "Sorry," he tried again.

Abel's shoulder brushed against Cain's chest as he gave a little shrug. Then he was leaning into Cain's touch, brushing a hand against Cain's thigh.

"Is it…" Cain trailed off, pulled away to put both hands on Abel's cheeks and examine him. "It's not bad," he muttered, not sure who exactly he was trying to convince. He swiped both thumbs over Abel's cheeks, rubbing away the dried tears.

"Sorry," he said again, didn't know how many times he'd have to repeat it before Abel believed him, before he was forgiven. But suddenly Abel leaned forward, wrapped his arms around Cain's torso and pushed up against him, their knees knocking together on the bed. Cain pulled him closer, practically pulled Abel onto his lap, said it again, once more, just to be sure: "I'm sorry."


End file.
